


who can say what we'll find, what lies waiting down the line

by yourtype



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons, Canon Compliant, Doctor Who References, F/M, Fluff, New Years, Other characters (Fitz's mom + the whole team + alya + enoch) but not enough for their own tags, Post-Canon, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), mentions of canon temporary character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourtype/pseuds/yourtype
Summary: 10 times Fitz and Simmons ring in the New Year, from the academy to Perthshire.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	who can say what we'll find, what lies waiting down the line

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I got the idea for this at 9am on NYE (when I had a big school project to work on, which I'm still not done with). Anyways, I know it's already the second or third for most people, but I hope you enjoy this anyways. I also hope your holidays were happy and you stayed safe during them! Here's to 2021 being even marginally better.
> 
> I rated this G, but there is really light alcohol mentions and light, supervised underage drinking (people have drinks but no real descriptions of drinking or people getting more than tipsy, since I've never drunk more than a sip alcohol) along with very light swearing. Also, mentions of some darker canon events and grappling with them (Fitz's death and brain injury + Maveth trauma) but overall this is a very fluffy piece. Just wanted to get that all out there.
> 
> Title is from "Happy New Year" by ABBA, which is much more depressing than this, but it was 1. fitting and 2. the last song I listened to in 2020, so I thought might as well. As always, my beta is myself and the free version of Grammarly, so I apologize for any mistakes.

**Ten**

“Leo, you have a call!” 

Fitz looked up to the doorway of the kitchen where his mother was currently standing, the phone receiver held close to her chest.

“Who?” He asked, pushing himself up and off the ground, where he had been sitting and watching the New Years’ festivities on the TV with his mother’s friends and extended family. Fitz was glad to be home for the holidays, grateful to be away from his classmates and back with his Mum. Well, grateful to be away from almost all of his classmates.

“Said her name’s Jemma Simmons. English girl,” His mother said, passing him the receiver as he entered the kitchen. “She’s the girl from the academy, right?”

Fitz nodded, putting the receiver up to his ear and politely gesturing for his mother to go take his place in the living room.

“Hello?” Fitz said into the phone. 

“Fitzy!” Simmons said with a gasp, much louder than he was expecting. “Oh, how are you? I feel like it’s been forever since we talked.”

“It’s been a week and a half,” Fitz said, laughing slightly. He could tell her parents had let her have far too much champagne for any reasonable 16-year-old tonight.

“We talk every day at the academy though, Fitz. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m fine, Simmons.”

“Well, I’m  _ fantastic _ .” Simmons laughed. “I have a feeling next year is going to be a really good year.”

“We’re gonna graduate next year,” Fitz thought out loud, leaning against the wall of his kitchen.

“Oh, God, we are! We’re gonna be  _ adults _ ,” She said, making adults sound like a dreadful word.

“Seventeen is barely an adult.”

“Well, rounding up. We’re certainly smarter than most adults, we should count.”

Fitz laughed, pulling at the lint clinging to the hideous holiday sweater his mother had insisted he wore. “Whatever you say, Simmons.”

There was suddenly lots of celebratory yelling from her side of the phone, the sounds of cheers and laughter.

“I have to go, Fitz,” She said after the noise died down, “We’ll talk soon though, right?”

“Of course we will. Tomorrow or the second?”

“The second, please. I think I will be far too hungover and tired to talk tomorrow. Give your family my best!”

“I’ll pass it on. And Simmons?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad I’m going into 2004 with you as my best friend.”

She was silent for a second, before giggling softly. “Aw, Fitzy. You big sap. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” he said, and with that, he hung up.

**Nine**

“You see, time is an illusion,” Fitz explained, using his notebook with a line drawn across the side of the pages to prove a point. Simmons wasn’t even sure where he had gotten it from. Who the hell brings a notebook to a party? “We — two-dimensional people — see a dot on this line, and we see the dot moving across as an event, but it’s already predetermined.”

“I thought we were  _ three _ dimensional,” The girl he was talking to asked, making Simmons snort. 

“No, uh, we  _ are _ , but say  _ hypothetically — _ “

“Okay, Einstein,” Simmons jumped in, grabbing Fitz’s arm and pulling him away from the girl. She dragged him into the corner of the party, looking out onto the crowd of their SciOps colleagues and random Boston citizens one of their work acquaintances had invited to this party. Neither Fitz nor Simmons knew anyone else here well, but had elected to go out and celebrate instead of their usual holiday routine of working until they got kicked from the lab, then going back to one of their apartments and getting tipsy.

“Having a good time picking up people here?” She teased. 

Fitz stared at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Do you think explaining the spacetime continuum is how I flirt?”

“Well, how do you flirt?”

“Oh, please, I would clearly flirt by talking about the Möbius strip,” Fitz joked. 

“Of course. It’s much sexier,” Simmons said, giggling. 

“Obviously. It does have ‘strip’ in the name.”

“I do know that you’re joking but the more you joke about it, the more I think you might actually use this as a tactic,” Simmons said, trying to suppress some laughter. “I think I finally cracked the code of why you don’t have anyone to kiss at midnight.”

“Thanks, Simmons,” Fitz said dryly.

“Don’t worry, Fitz,” Simmons said, playfully pushing his shoulder, “You’ll find someone, eventually.”

“You say that like you have someone to kiss at midnight.” Fitz crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. “So unless you change your mind about Milton suddenly or very quickly lower your standards, I believe we are in the same boat.”

Simmons rolled her eyes at him. “Guess we’re stuck together.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Fitz said, a wide grin on his face. 

**Eight**

“Happy New Year!” The small group — everyone besides May and Ward, who both looked incredibly fed up with the rest of the team — yelled as the clock struck midnight. It was the fourth time they had celebrated, with the Bus flying between multiple time zones during the night. Drinking cheap alcohol and staying up all night probably isn’t best practice for an organization of spies who needed to get to work when they landed, but hey, it was the holidays! As Coulson had reasoned just before the clock struck midnight for the second time, they all deserved it. It had been a hard few months, but also some of the most rewarding of Fitz’s life.

Fitz, Simmons, and Skye all pulled on the strings of their party poppers, only three being left after the long night, making all four of the celebrating agents laugh.

“Isn’t it tradition for people to kiss at midnight?” Skye asked, a teasing tone in her voice, looking directly at where Fitz and Simmons were standing nearly hip-to-hip. 

Fitz sighed as she spoke. She had asked the same question every time they entered the new year. Skye seemed insistent that there was something between the two of them, but Fitz was adamant to keep any feelings he had for Simmons a secret. He wouldn’t risk his friendship with her for anything.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Simmons roll her eyes, before muttering, “Oh, if you insist,” and leaning in to kiss Fitz’s cheek.

It only lasted a second, and it wasn’t anything new. She had kissed him on the cheek plenty of times in their ten years of friendship, and it meant nothing more than a gesture of support and platonic love. But she hadn’t kissed him on the cheek since the day she nearly died jumping out of the plane, and something about it made Fitz feel like she had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart.

He could feel himself blush as she pulled away, and could hear Skye cackling distantly. He cleared his throat and looked down into his drink, hoping to distract from the bright pink color of his cheeks.

Fitz suddenly hoped they wouldn’t get to celebrate the new year any more tonight, this felt like a pretty perfect way to enter 2014.

**Seven**

Simmons was back. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? That should be a good thing. Except Fitz can’t shake the feeling that things between them wouldn’t ever be the same again. 

She barely spoke to him, avoiding his eye when they worked in the lab. Any conversation they did have was professional in nature, usually with a few fellow agents. 

He wasn’t treating her much better if he was being honest. He actively avoided her most days, opting instead to work with Mack or huddled in his corner of the lab.

Not that Fitz didn’t want to be near her, really it was the exact opposite of that. Fitz missed her more than anything, even if she was often just a few steps away. But things were excruciatingly strained between them whenever they did have a conversation, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had left because she couldn’t bear to be around him anymore. That she thought he was useless.

(He couldn’t blame her, honestly, he thought the same most days.)

The two of them were going on to have not talked for 5 days and 13 hours the morning of January 1. Because yes, Fitz had counted. He had gone to sleep early the night before, not bothering to stay up to watch the ball drop with most of his coworkers. Most of them treated him like he was going to break or like he was a child, and he didn’t feel like sitting alone in the corner of a party for hours on end. His symptoms usually got worse when he was running on little sleep, anyway, and he didn’t want to seem even weaker in front of them, especially when he had been making so much progress.

Fitz sighed, sitting down at his desk and wrapping his cardigan around him even tighter, both for comfort and to keep himself just a bit warmer (because  _ Christ _ , Coulson, it’s already the middle of winter, the AC doesn’t need to be that high.) As he shifted through his papers, sorting out his sketches and blueprints from the paperwork, a small sliver of light blue caught his eye. 

A small sticky-note was attached to his desk, with just a few words written on it in handwriting he could recognize anywhere.

_ Happy New Year, Fitz! Hopefully 2015 is better for us. _

_ — Jemma ♡ _

He felt a smile creep across his face as he read it over and over again. Fitz felt his chest tighten at the idea of Simmons walking away from the celebration, even just for a minute or two, to take the time to write out this note for him. 

Maybe she was right. He still didn’t think things between them would ever be exactly as they were back before the pod, but maybe it could get better.

He took the sticky note and placed it on the monitor of his computer. He would take it down soon, not wanting Hunter to make fun of him for how much happiness he was getting from the girl he liked writing 11 words on a piece of paper and not wanting to cross a line with Simmons. But for now, he wanted to be able to look up and see proof that he hadn’t completely mucked everything up.

**Six**

Fitz had made it back. Will hadn’t. And now Fitz wasn’t speaking to her. Again.

Well, not entirely. He did talk to her in the lab, giving her brief responses when she asked for advice or used him as a sounding board. But the two of them hadn’t had a real, long conversation outside of the lab in weeks. 

And it made Simmons feel like shit.

She knew he was just trying to give her space, let her mourn, but that was exactly what Simmons didn’t want. She wanted  _ him _ . 

She wanted to be able to vent to him, to make stupid jokes with him, to kiss him, to just be near him.

But right now, as she sat on the surprisingly comfortable couch in the middle of the Playground, watching the New Year’s celebrations in Times Square, he was on the opposite side of the room with Daisy and seemed to be purposefully avoiding her. 

She looked away, instead focusing on her phone, responding to celebratory texts and emails from her family members.

After a few minutes, the couch shifted under someone’s weight, making her look up. Fitz was there, lightly picking at the label on his beer while he smiled at her.

Simmons gaped at him for longer than she would’ve liked before her senses came back to her and she simply said “Hi.”

“Hi,” He responded with a chuckle. “You looked a bit lonely over here so I thought I should check in on you and —”

“I’m okay, Fitz,” She said, adding  _ now that you’re here _ in her head. It was sweet how much he cared about her, really. Even if they weren’t talking much, he usually tried to check on her and make sure she was holding up, a less constant version of how he had been acting when she came back from Maveth.

“Oh, good.” Fitz leaned back against the couch, biting at his lower lip. Simmons hated that things between them had become awkward and stilted,  _ again _ . All she wanted was to tell him that she missed him, but she knew he would just try to give her space again and blame himself for making her feel any sadness at all. But instead, she just said…

“You didn’t watch the  _ Doctor Who  _ special.” It was sudden, it almost seemed rude to her ears when she said it. The two of them had bonded over their love of the classic series back at the academy, debating over what was the best series or doctor to take their mind off of things. (They never had to debate over the best companion, they both agreed it was Sarah Jane). They had watched every Christmas special together, usually accompanied by a days-long binge-watch of their favorite episodes before and after. “We still share a BBC America login, I just noticed that you hadn’t watched it the other day,” She added on, rushing her words.

“Oh… I haven’t really had the time. Y’know with Coulson’s hand and the Inhumans it’s all been a bit…” He trailed off, and Simmons could tell he was trying to dodge the question. Months ago, he had confessed to her that he didn’t watch last year’s special without her. He didn’t elaborate on it much, not giving any reasoning, but had asked her if she was up for rewatching it with him. She hadn’t told him at the time, but she had only gotten a few minutes in on Christmas day before shutting it off, realizing that it didn’t feel the same watching the show without him. They watched the Christmas special in the middle of May, sitting on the floor of Simmons’ bunk, huddled around her laptop. “Was it good?”

“I didn’t watch it. Didn’t feel right if you weren’t there.”

Fitz looked up to her, both slightly smiling and clearly confused. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Simmons smiled. She looked around the — if she was being honest — dull party before making a decision. “Do you want to go watch it now?” She asked softly, scared he might reject her.

“Of course,” He said the words quietly before jumping off the couch and reaching his hand out to her. “Your bunk or mine.”

“Yours.” She took his hand, letting him pull her up. “I’ve spent far too much time in my room these past few months.”

Fitz nodded, dropping her hand, and the pair quietly slipped out of the party.

Just under an hour later, as the episode wrapped up, the two of them could hear the cheers of their friends down the hall as they rang in the new year. They were curled up on Fitz’s bed, Fitz’s laptop perched on his lap as she leaned against his side, all regards for personal space be damned. She was sure when they woke up he would go back to giving her space, wanting to let her heal on her own, but for tonight she savored the small moments between them.

“Happy New Year, Fitz,” Simmons said, her voice slightly muffled from the way she was curled against him.

“Happy New Year, Jemma.”

**Five**

“Happy New Year!” The group of agents called out with the CNN anchors and the New York crowd. Mace had planned a full New Year’s party, one much more organized and a much bigger deal than anything Coulson had ever put together. It would be good for morale, he argued. Fitz thought he just  _ really _ wanted people to like him.

It wouldn’t work, but Fitz always appreciated a chance to take his mind off of his work. Especially when he got to spend that time with Jemma. 

She was currently standing right next to him, pushed up against his side with her arm around his waist. The two smiled at each other for a moment, before simultaneously leaning in to kiss each other. 

The kiss was sweet but short, both pulling apart as the sharp sound of party poppers caught them off guard. When they both came to their senses, Fitz pulled Jemma closer to him, her head resting in the crook of her neck. He ran her hands through her hair, pulling out some confetti that had gotten stuck in it as he did.

“Happy New Year, Fitz,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“Happy New Year, Jemma.” 

Fitz had always found couples on New Year’s a bit corny, the PDA and sappiness a bit too much for him to bear without breaking out into laughter. But as he stood there with the love of his life in his arms, he realized those sappy couples may have been right all along.

He didn’t know what was coming up in the next 365 days, and God knows in his line of work it could be anything one could dream of, but he knew that starting the year with Jemma was probably the best way any person under the sun could start a year.

**Four**

For the first time in weeks, Simmons was back in her own time. No Kasius, no dystopian future, no broken earth. At least, not yet.

Coulson had given the team just a few minutes of peace, a quick moment to collect themselves before all of them — besides Daisy — went out to the town above the Lighthouse. 

Simmons was washing up, something the people of the 2091-Lighthouse would’ve probably seen as a luxury. As she finished, she stepped out into the bunk she and Fitz had claimed for themselves to see him sitting on the bed, instantly bringing a small smile to her face.

“Do you need to…?” She pointed to the bathroom.

“Oh, no, I just wanted to wait up for you,” He said.

“Coulson probably needs us, we should get going,” Simmons said, roaming around the room to collect her few belongings.

“Yeah, just one more thing.” Fitz got off the bed, grabbing her hand. She looked up to him, and he cupped her face with both his hands, kissing her softly.

She was slightly shocked, but leaned into the kiss after a second, putting her hands on his chest.

He pulled away, bringing his hands down to rest on her waist instead. “Happy New Year.”

“Oh, we missed it?” She asked, and he nodded. It was the beginning of March 2018, just about a year after she had been snatched up from the diner and 6 months since he had broken out of prison. “Damn, I’ve always liked New Year’s.”

“I know you do,” Fitz said, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Next year will be better, yeah? Maybe we’ll get to go back to your parents and my mum, spend some time with them.”

“That’d be nice.” Jemma smiled up at him. “And by then we’ll probably be married,” She added quietly.

Fitz smiled at her again. “That’d be nice,” He echoed.

They pulled apart as they heard a knock on their door, followed by May telling them the team was heading out. There’s always next year, right?

**Three**

As it turned out, the two of them didn’t get to spend the next New Year’s together. Simmons was instead laying on her uncomfortable bunk on the Zephyr, silent tears running down her cheeks as she stared at her phone screen. She had been watching videos of her and Fitz for the past hour or so, a common pastime that she had become accustomed to over the past six months.

It was — according to the clock on her phone, though time didn’t matter much in the vastness of space — just past three in the morning. She had stayed up to celebrate the new year with Daisy, Piper, and Davis, all sharing holiday stories and drinking some alcohol Piper had snuck onto the ship before they left Earth. 

The video she was currently watching, one she had taken years ago, well before they joined the field team, was of Fitz, sitting on the floor of her parent’s house, playing with her then-one-year-old niece. The two were giggling, Fitz playing peekaboo with the baby. She had taken it when they visited Simmons’ parents one Christmas before they drove up to Glasgow to visit Fitz’s mum for the new year. Bringing him home had opened her up to relentless teasing from her siblings, them constantly asking when they would tie the knot, despite Simmons insisting they were just friends.

And now, while they were married, neither of her siblings knew, she hadn’t seen any of her family members in years, and she didn’t know if she would ever see Fitz again. She felt herself choke up again, before clearing her throat and wiping her eyes in a futile attempt to wipe away any tears.

“Happy New Year, Fitz,” She whispered, “I’ll see you again soon.”

**Two**

“Happy New Year, Leopold and Jemma Fitz-Simmons,” Enoch announced, much louder than necessary, as he burst into the room Fitz and Jemma had converted to a bedroom and flicked on the overhead lights.

The two shot up in bed, both mostly asleep when Enoch had entered the room. When both registered that it was only Enoch, and not some threat that years in SHIELD had prepared them for, they groaned, laying back in bed.

“Enoch, it’s the middle of the night,” Fitz groaned into his pillow.

“Yes, and I have learned that it is customary for humans to stay awake until midnight for New Year’s celebrations. I do not need to sleep, as I am not human, but I took it upon myself to make sure the two of you were awake and ready to ring in the new year, as one might say,” Enoch explained, his head tilted to one side, the 2020 glasses he — somehow — found perched on his nose.

“Just a word of advice, never burst into our room unannounced if the door is closed,” Fitz said, opening one eye to glare at the Chronicom.

“Since you may be engaging in sexual intercourse?” Enoch asked, his voice as flat as ever.

Fitz could hear Jemma attempt to stifle a laugh from beside him. “Sure, Enoch,” Fitz replied, ready to fall back asleep and not have to deal with him. He appreciated Enoch, but spending nearly every waking moment with him for years was starting to take its toll.

“Thank you for making sure we celebrate, Enoch, but I think Fitz and I would much more enjoy getting in as much sleep as we can,” Jemma said, her voice much more upbeat and kind than anyone should sound after being woken up at midnight.

“Of course, Jemma Simmons. Hopefully, next year, the two of you and your child will be willing to celebrate in the traditional Earth ways.” Fitz couldn’t help it, the corners of his mouth flicking up at the mention of the baby growing inside of Jemma right now. She was about four months along, due in the early weeks of May. He was near petrified of raising a child, but the idea brought him so much joy at the same time. “Sleep comfortably, and do not allow the Cimex lectularius to bite,” Enoch said, leaving their bedroom.

Fitz rolled over, meeting Jemma’s eyes from where she lay, smiling at him. 

“Happy New Year, Fitz.”

“Happy New Year, Jem,” He said, near mumbling the words from exhaustion. “And happy New Year to you too, little monkey,” He said, his voice full of love and wonder, as he gently put his hand over her stomach, her hand quickly coming to cover his. 

**One**

Fitz was lying across the couch, watching the New Year’s celebrations in Glasgow, with Alya laying across his chest, a place where she had often fallen asleep since she was a baby. She was fast asleep, though she had declared she was going to stay up until midnight. Both Fitz and Simmons had been skeptical, knowing that their five-year-old barely stayed up past eight most nights, but had let her try, anyway. By the time the clock struck 9:00, she had already been quietly snoring.

Now, it was well past midnight, Fitz and Simmons quietly ringing in the New Year by themselves, calling and texting their family and friends to wish them a good year. It was a simple, low key celebration, but all three of them were safe and happy, and that was all they could really ask for. 

Simmons was standing across the room from her husband and daughter, having left the living room to get a drink from the kitchen a few minutes prior. She reached for her pocket to grab her phone, taking a quick picture of the scene in front of her, beaming at the two of them as she did. 

Fitz looked up as he heard the camera shutter, smiling as his gaze landed on her.

“Is that for the team?” He asked softly, as to not wake Alya.

“Of course, if I don’t provide them with a constant stream of Alya pictures they might start rioting,” She replied.

Fitz hummed, continuing to gently rub his hand up and down Alya’s back. “Shame she couldn’t make it to midnight.”

“Is it?” Jemma said with a quiet laugh. “We’d have an exhausted child on our hands tomorrow if she had.”

“Guess you’re right. But she was looking forward to it so much. Maybe next year she’ll be ready.” He looked down at his daughter, a soft smile on his face. 

“Do you want me to put her to bed?” Jemma asked, stepping towards them. 

“I got it tonight,” Fitz said, shifting to get up from the couch without waking Alya but still keeping her against him. “Besides, she's already asleep.”

Jemma nodded, stepping closer to press a kiss to Alya’s forehead. She looked up at Fitz, the soft glow from the TV and Christmas lights illuminating his face as he smiled at her. 

“Happy New Year, Fitz.”

“Happy New Year, Jemma. And to many more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me writing this: I will pepper in the fact that I love Sarah Jane with everything I have and I know nothing about smart science but I do stan loona so i vaguely understand the mobius strip
> 
> I'm not very confident in writing sciops and academy era fs (well... not really confident in writing at all lol, but them specifically), since I don't usually enjoy reading them in that era for some reason, so I hope I did okay! Also, I know that ending was sappy as fuck, but I couldn't help myself, plus we all need some sappy stuff sometimes.
> 
> Any kudos or comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
